The Blue Ocean of Her Eyes
by Molly Fitz-Patrick
Summary: The Inquisition has won, and Commander Cullen has to make some difficult decisions regarding his future happiness. Namely, he has to tell the Inquisitor he's in love with someone else.


**The Blue Ocean of Her Eyes**

It was over. That was the thought running through everyone's minds. We had done it; Corypheus was defeated, the breach was sealed, and everyone was celebrating. I saw the Inquisitor glance over at me, a sly smile pulling at her face. Her lithe body sidled through the crowds toward me. I knew what I had to do.

"Inquisitor," I stated as she reached me. Her coy smile widened, and her body finished swaying between the other celebrators to stand before me. The Inquisitor's dark hair was swept to one side, the tips just barely brushing her shoulder. Her burrowing brown eyes stared up at me with mirth.

"Commander," she purred. I felt an immense twinge of guilt, but I knew what needed to be done, for both of us.

"Can I have a private word with you?" I asked politely.

The Inquisitor nodded, "Of course." A light blush covered her tan face, adding to my guilt. I wish I didn't have to ruin this night for her. She deserved better. Everyone always deserved better, but I was always messing up. I always failed to deliver what was due. And I had to live with the consequences.

I led the Inquisitor to an abandoned room down the hall, and pushed open the heavy wooden door. I locked it behind me, ensuring no one disturbed us. The Inquisitor giggled after the lock clicked shut, and she spun in a circle to face me. Her face glowing in joy, happiness.

She approached me slowly, one foot stepping sensually in front of the other. She grasped my face with her left hand, her fingers trailing slowly down my cheek.

"I've been waiting for this moment," she whispered softly. Her voice was like a golden bell, sweet to hear but ringing harshly in my ears with the knowledge of what I had to do at the forefront of my mind.

Everything inside me shook, trembled, begged me to stop and let her continue. It would be better than shattering her world. If it was one thing I had learned throughout my time on Thedas, though, it was that I had to be honest. To myself, and to those that cared for me.

My face must have shown my internal conflict, for the Inquisitor suddenly acquired a serious look.

"What's wrong, Cullen?" she asked, worry seeping into her voice. Her eyes stared deep into my own, penetrating me with their intensity.

I slowly removed the Inquisitor's hand from my face, and carried it down to her side. I heard a surprised gasp, as the Inquisitor followed my movement with her head, her eyes resting on my hand still holding hers.

"I'm sorry," I said lightly, my meaning clear. Her head whipped back up, and I continued speaking the painful words. The words I knew would utterly shatter her, and possibly our friendship too.

"I shouldn't have let it go this far," I said solemnly. "It wasn't fair to you. I guess I just liked the attention you were showing me, and I thought maybe." I paused for breath, struggling to find the right words. The Inquisitor's head drooped slightly, but her eyes still rested on me.

"I thought maybe it would work. Between us," I clarified. "But I was just fooling myself. I wanted there to be something, something to help me move on. I thought you were the answer. The more attention you gave me, and the more I saw your affection start to grow for me, it made me realize I was wrong."

I took another deep shuddering breath. My whole body was visibly trembling as I gathered the strength to say the last thing. The one that would hurt the most.

"_You _made me realize that there was only one person in the world I could ever truly love."

"The Hero of Ferelden," the Inquisitor whispered, "that's who you mean."

"I-I'm sorry I let this continue the way I did. I never meant to hurt you, but I can't deny the way I feel. It wouldn't be fair to you or me."

My face was burning red in shame after my confession. I despised myself. Why could I never learn? I should have realized right from the beginning where the Inquisitor's flirting would get me. Now she would hate me. There was no way she couldn't after I had led her on this long.

"You should tell her," the Inquisitor stated. She was standing tall, her arms crossed over her chest.

"W-What?" I stuttered. My arm nervously reached behind my head to scratch my neck. Surely I didn't hear her right. The Inquisitor was looking sternly at me, her expression defiant and scolding.

"You should tell her," she said again forcefully, "If you're rejecting me, then you have to tell her. I won't have it any other way."

"W-What?" I stammered again, "I-I don't under-stand. Why?" I asked completely baffled. The Inquisitor was acting oddly. I had thought she would be screaming and yelling, cursing me for deceiving her. I was prepared to take her abuse, and whatever else she deemed fitting for hurting her. I was not expecting her to be completely calm and unaffected by my refusal. Some irrational part of my pride was wounded that she was so flippant about the whole thing. I pushed that aside as quickly as it came, focusing on her words instead.

"Why? Don't you know why? Because she needs to know! Telling me how you feel isn't going to help you with her," the Inquisitor exclaimed forcefully.

"No, I mean, how are you okay with all this? I don't understand," I said helplessly, gesturing futilely with my hands at her.

The Inquisitor sighed, her voice losing its forceful edge, "Listen, I already kind of suspected this might turn out to be the case. When you asked for a word, I had hoped I was wrong, but I always knew you still had feelings for her. Which is why you need to tell her. She needs to know, and you need to know too so you can move on as well."

"I guess I'm still not following," I said slowly. "I thought you would be mad at me for deceiving you. I thought telling you the truth would hurt you." I cringed at my own words, hating how they sounded like I wanted to hurt her.

"I am hurt," the Inquisitor said, "or maybe disappointed is a better word for it. But I still care for you, and I want you to find happiness. Even if that happiness isn't with me, and I know you'll regret it if you don't talk to her. That's why I'm ordering you to talk to the Hero of Ferelden again."

"Ordering me?" I exclaimed. The Inquisitor had always been one who liked to have things her way. This seemed drastic even for her, though.

"Yep, it has been done. I expect to see your report on this matter as soon as there's an update." The Inquisitor's words dripped with humor, but there was a tinge of sadness to her words that I couldn't miss.

"I don't even know where she is right now," I hedged, suddenly nervous about her proposal.

"Don't worry about that. I'll have my spymaster find out. She's very good at that sort of thing, you know."

"I don't know what to say, Inquisitor." I truly didn't. She had surprised me in every way, and evaded all my predicted outcomes of this conversation. Never could I have believed the Inquisitor, the one who was flirting not so subtly with me, would arrange for me to talk to the woman I loved again.

"It's alright," the Inquisitor said, stepping close to me. She closed her eyes faintly, like petals on a flower closing, and reached her hand to my face once again. I closed my eyes as her hand gently caressed my face, nails dragging through the scruff on my cheeks. Her fingers trailed over my scar and onto my lips. They parted slightly at the sensual contact, my breath releasing in a short puff. She cupped her hand under my chin, and was gone.

"Goodbye, Eve," I whispered to the empty room. For once calling her by her name and not the Inquisitor.

The ocean breeze blew up around the cliffs. The smell of the sea was heavy in the air, and it seemed to soak into my skin. It was peaceful here. The constant sound of waves crashing against the shore and against the cliffs was soothing. I knew immediately why this was where _she _had decided to settle.

The Inquisitor was quick in her promise. I had been given the location to the Hero of Ferelden within a week. Many were confused by my sudden departure, especially since I had left the Inquisitor behind. It was assumed we would be a couple at the end of everything. The Inquisitor backed me when I failed to provide a sufficient answer for my absence. She unofficially ordered everyone to leave me be. It was reluctantly followed, but the Inquisitor's order had allowed me some peace before I left.

I was nervous, though. The thought of actually being here, of seeing her soon, after so long was almost too much for me. I had no idea what to say. Unlike with the Inquisitor, I didn't even have various scenarios planned out for how our conversation would go. If there was even a conversation to be had. The last things I said to her, to the Hero of Ferelden, were beyond unkind.

Would she even recognize me after all this time? It had been a long time since the events of the Circle Tower. Many new and exciting things had happened to her, and I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't even remember me. I could be just another faceless Templar to her now. No, stop. I told myself. I was sure I'd lose my nerve if I kept psyching myself out. I had to relax. I just had to take things one at a time, and avoid my nasty habit of overanalyzing and planning too far in advance.

I approached the top of the cliff. The breeze shuffled my hair slightly, and its freshness gave me an extra ounce of courage to step forward. She was there, her skirts whipping in the fierce wind from the sea. All the breath seemed to go out of me as I stared at her. Maker's breath she was perfect, and always had been.

Her light blonde hair was pulled into a neat pony tail, the ends reaching down to caress her neck. Two thin strands of hair too short to be pulled back fell softly over her eyes, framing her face. She watched me as I ascended, stepping carefully toward her on the green grass. Her white dress whirled about her legs, a testament to how windy it was. My own clothes ruffled slightly in the breeze.

I continued to scan her appearance, my eyes flitting over her form in awe, unbelieving that she was real and standing in front of me. Her feet were bare, I noticed, and her toes relaxed against the soft grass. Her pale legs seemed to stretch upwards forever, until her flowing skirts settled against her knees. The blustering wind had calmed, and with it my confidence wavered.

The pounding in my head was my own, not caused by the wind whistling through the few trees on the cliff. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I had no recollection of how long I'd been standing there watching her in silence.

Her face betrayed nothing. She looked up at me impassively, her blue eyes clear as the ocean behind her. The dusting of blue across her eyelids added to the illusion, and I felt swept away by her gaze. My heart stuttered and restarted in my chest, beating annoyingly loud. I was sure she could hear it from where she stood. Did she even know who I was?

"_Cullen_," she whispered, soft as a feather floating on the breeze. Or was that my imagination? I was too transfixed by the perfect shape of her rosy lips to notice if she had really spoken or not.

My face heated hard, panic setting in as I stuttered, "Y-Yes, I'm Cullen." I nervously scratched behind my neck before I could stop myself. I felt like an idiot. What if she hadn't actually asked if I was Cullen? I wanted to tell her who I was with a smooth and collected voice. Instead I was acting as if I was still in the Tower, a new recruit talking to a mage for the first time.

I didn't know how to continue in my confused state, and she wasn't helping matters either. Her eyes never wavered from my face, and she showed no visible signs of recognition or emotion. She had always been this way, sure and calm under any circumstance. It was probably what made her a good warden, and a powerful mage.

It was also what made me love her. She seemed so unaffected by the happenings of the world, as if she knew everything would work out in the end. Her confidence was astounding, especially when she prepared for her Harrowing. She showed no fear, no outward signs of distress or worry. It suddenly made me want to watch her forever, just to see her expression change as the seasons changed.

Her eyes stared unflinchingly into mine, and I almost got lost in their depths again. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath through my nose.

"There's something I need to tell you," I started, "something I should have said a long time ago." I took another deep breath to calm myself. Have faith, I told myself. I needed to have faith and courage.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice seemed to ring out over the cliff and across the water. Blue eyes pierced me, the smallest crinkle across her brow hinted at a frown.

"The things I said at the Circle to you were beyond unkind," I continued. "I don't know if you even remember me saying them. They were horrible, awful things to say, and you didn't deserve them. I was foolish and stupid, and I took my rage out on you. And-and I've always regretted that."

My words shuddered out of me in short breaths. I paused as I ran my hand raggedly down my face, my fingers tense.

"I was so stupid back then. I couldn't see that you were suffering too. I ignored your pain and inflicted more. I never thanked you for saving all of us, either. All of us, including the mages," I emphasized. I could not lift my head to meet her eyes anymore as I relentlessly forced words out of my mouth.

"I'm so sorry, and I can never apologize enough for my actions and words. I just needed you to know that," I finished. I raised my head again to catch her expression. The slightest tilt shifted her eyes. They were less open now. Her lips were pursed slightly as well. I still couldn't read her expression, but I knew what she must have been thinking. There was no way her mind couldn't be replaying that awful day in vivid detail, remembered with disdain and anger.

I wanted to run my hands down her face until all the muscles relaxed back into the expression I knew so well. I wanted to scrub away the pain I had left her with, erase that moment from her memory and mine. Anything to see her look at me as she used to, with her clear blue eyes staring passively up at me. I would never be able to do that, though.

She still hadn't said a word to me. I didn't blame her. I would likely never see her again after this day. I tried to memorize her face; I wanted to have this last memory of her. With her back against the open ocean, the breeze brushing her hair, and her freedom apparent in her relaxed demeanor.

I should leave her be now, I thought. I was a selfish person, though, and I would always regret this day if I did not say one last thing to her.

"I— there's something else I should say," my voice was shakier than ever, and red fire slipped over my face and heated my cheeks. My mind was blanking out on me. The Chant of Light slipping from my memory as I tried calling on it to calm me.

"I-I've always loved you," I proclaimed, "Even when I said those things to you, a part of me still loved you, and hated myself for what I said."

I couldn't stare at her face and I couldn't look away either. Those blue eyes, they would be the death of me. I wouldn't even mind, I thought. She wasn't saying anything, and I had to continue, I couldn't stop spewing my heart out to those beautiful blue eyes.

"I—my feelings for you have never diminished. I-I tried to move on, I did. A friend helped me realize that I've never stopped loving you, though. She….said I should tell you."

My voice wavered in uncertainty and embarrassment. It was killing me to say these things to her. My words sounded hollow, and it was selfish of me to needlessly burden her with my infatuation. I had a promise to uphold with the Inquisitor, and with myself, though. I had to finally let her know how I felt, and I was not going to leave anything out.

I gathered the last of my courage to stare directly into those fathomless, blue depths. I felt the breeze on my face again. It had probably never truly left. It washed the red from my face, and I stood straighter, more confident.

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, _Freja,_" I whispered the last word, her name. The silence hung between us now. There was nothing more for me to say or do. Still, she said nothing. The only sign she'd heard me was her eyes on my face, they had never broken eye contact with me, even when I looked away.

"That was all I wanted to say."

I turned my back on her. It was time for me to leave. I felt remarkably lighter, as if I could truly breathe the air now. The ringing in my ears had dissipated, and the sound of the ocean came crashing in around me. The strange bubble of isolation that had existed moments before was now shattered. I could hear, smell, and feel the earth beneath my feet again.

The salty air stung my nose as I took a step down the hill. I noticed the chill in my hands, and the even breaths I was taking. I could even see the deep blue ocean on the other side of the peninsula. The color brought me up short, and a deep pang resonated through my being. I struggled to breathe again. My legs refused to move me down the hill and away from this peaceful place. I bit my lip hard, trying anything to move. I had to move. Move. Move.

My foot shifted, breath returned, and I took another step down. Only to pull up short again. My eyes stared at my arm in shock, my breath threatened to leave me for what had to be the hundredth time that day.

I followed the hand on my arm back to its owner and met blue eyes. Blue eyes that were staring up at me with an intensity I had never seen before. Never imagined to see directed at me. I scarcely could move. It was as if my body had frozen in time, with only my startled breath to remind me I was alive.

Freja's grip on my arm was surprisingly firm, and she slowly moved her hand down my arm as if it was the railing to a fancy staircase. She walked around my frozen arm to face me directly, her hand still trailing down. My fingers reflexively twitched when she brushed them. My head followed her movements mechanically, twisting just so to keep my eyes in line with hers.

She brought her small hand up to cup my overwarm cheek. A breath rattled out of my chest. I could feel nothing but those five dainty fingers and her cool palm resting against the scruff on my face. Lightning seemed to spark against my skin from her simple touch. My eyes fluttered closed against my will. The hammering in my chest a constant pressure as I breathed shallowly.

"_It's alright. It's alright," _her sweet voice breathed against my chest, my face. Her hand languidly traced the scar under my eye, her touch both liquid lightning and the softest thing I had ever felt.

"_You don't have to suffer anymore," _Freja whispered against me. Both of my arms had moved to encircle her hips without my knowledge. She raised her left hand to my face, and gently brought it down upon my skin. I opened my eyes meeting hers immediately.

She stole my breath away every time with those eyes. Those eyes that looked directly into my soul. That saw the deepest parts of me I tried to keep hidden from others. She pushed back all of my barriers effortlessly. It was those eyes that had saved me from the Desire demon years ago.

The demon had tried to show me what it thought I wanted to see, and it imbued her eyes with a fierce and ravenous desire for me. But it was this look right now which I desired, her gaze piercing into every inch of my being in a way no other could. No demon could ever hope to capture the depths of her eyes, the swirling blueness, or the unaware look that said she didn't know what her gaze did to me. To try would be a laughable attempt.

My mind was blissfully blank, her soothing voice lulling my frenzied thoughts. It filled me with peace too, such comfort I couldn't recall feeling before. Her voice repeated in my head, promising that it was alright. Everything was alright. What was alright I didn't know, but if she said it, it was surely alright.

I huffed a huge breath. Freja released my gaze and slowly closed her eyes, her head tilting up toward mine. The blue powder across her eyelids glittered in the sunlight, and her pale skin glowed warmly. The lightest hue of pink tinged her cheeks, and her rosy lips parted, a small sigh escaping.

Her gesture was clear, and my heart beat erratically in my chest. Her delicate fingers pressed my face, and her left hand slipped behind my ear. I tilted my head down to meet hers, my eyes drifting closed as well.

"_Freja,"_ I whispered, before I brought my mouth gently to hers. Warmth spread from my mouth and up through my chest to envelop me in a sweet blanket. She kissed me softly, moving her lips slowly against my own. My face brushed hers, sharing her warmth, feeling her breath against my cheeks. She inhaled, sucking my scent into her body. I kissed her tenderly, my arms pulling her closer. Our breaths mingled together, our heat hovered over our faces enshrouding us in a warm shroud of happiness.

We pulled apart breathlessly, my eyes heady, the taste of her on my lips too sweet to forget. Her eyes were a touch glazed as well, a look I've never seen before, but was happy to know I caused. She trailed her hand down my cheek, fingers burning with fire, brushing down my chest. Her small hand found my larger one, and I closed my fingers over hers. It was a silent promise, one that stated I would never let go.

Freja gazed at me with her own silent promise, her endlessly blue eyes holding her usual confidence with an unfamiliar spark. I could not discern what she promised me in that moment. But her gaze ignited the fire I hadn't realized was burning in me, and I couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her lips softly again.

"I love you, Freja Amell." A smile lighted up her face, making her eyes sparkle up at me. I wanted to hold that smile in my hands forever, to protect it as a newborn bird.

"_I love you too, Cullen_," she said softly. The words I never thought to hear spiked through my body, and cascaded down from my chest like a waterfall, pooling warmly in my stomach. I felt a grin form on my face, pulling my scar in a strange way. It was a wide smile, and I was sure I looked like an idiot. Freja didn't seem to notice or care, though. Her own smile quirked ever so slightly up, and her blue eyes glittered happily. She tugged lightly on my hand, pulling me along as she always had, as I hoped she always would. We strolled down the cliff together, our eyes never leaving each other's gazes.


End file.
